


pull me closer

by orphan_account



Series: parker drabbles [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, basically they’re sparing and oh my god look at all this sexual tension oh no..., but dont worry theyre both legal, idk I wrote this at like 12:00 don’t judge me you fucker, it’s one of THOSE parkner fics, ly allowed to have sex in the state of ny, peter and harley are in luuuuurve, so fucking gay, you absolute coat hanger you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: ~read the tags~Peter loves Harley. He really does. And Harley loves him back.But they’re still teenage boys. What do you expect?





	pull me closer

**Author's Note:**

> this*is*technically*non*graphic* *smut*so*watch*out*

“Are you sure about this?”

Peter’s eyes are wide and in full Bambi mode, peering at Harley in a way that makes him want to rip that damn shirt off and kiss him right there. 

“Yes, darlin, for the millionth time. Besides, I can really learn something from you.”

Peter sighs, then straightens himself. (Well not really if you know what I mean akdsjsdks.) He holds up his fists and readies his stance. 

Harley clenches his hands too, though he’s staring at the shoulder muscles and biceps visible through Peter’s t-shirt. Sweat rolls down Harley’s neck as he steps onto the mat, and Peter practically shivers. 

“You ready Darlin?” Harley asks, hips cocked. 

“Give me your best shot, Keener,” Peter answers, baring his fists. 

Harley strikes first, delivering a blow to Peter’s shoulder. He blocks it and taps Harley’s rib cage. The Southern boy knows he’s outmatched, but still- who cares?

Peter lunges this time, aiming a kick for Harley’s hip. Harley manages to block it and catches Peter’s wrist as the other boy throws a punch, pushing his own knee forward. Peter backs up; Harley’s momentum has taken him too far, and they both fall on the mat. 

“See? I’m getting better,” Harley grumbles. Peter rolls his eyes and pushes his knee into Harley’s hip, using the momentum to roll them both over, Harley now on the bottom. “I beg to differ.”

Harley smirks, and lifts his knee up suddenly so Peter’s leg leaves the floor. Using the swing of the movement he rolls Peter back around and then below him. “My God, darling,” he mutters while brushing a loose hair from Peter’s face. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

And Harley snaps.

Their lips connect with a spark and sudden heat, blooming like a desert flower. One hand fists in Peter’s hair, the other one snaking around his neck. Fire is in his veins and pulsing through his heart as Peter curls around him, hands tightening around his hips and thumbs rolling small circles into them. Harley whines as Peter’s tongue slips through his mouth, slick against his parched lips as warmth spreads. His eyes flutter and twitch as he watches Peter fall apart under him, under his mouth and his touch and his tongue. 

It’s enough to make any sane man go crazy. 

So he plunges in again, this time feeling the warmth not of a flower but of a fire; roaring, raging, burning a bright purple and red as it licks through his mouth. But the fire is Peter’s tongue, Peter’s touch that lights him up brighter then a Fourth of July sky. 

He moans, jutting a leg between Peter’s and he feels the boy grind against him, whimpering. Peter’s hands clench again in Harley’s hair, sifting through the golden curls and scraping his scalp, twisting and tugging and lightly pulling until-

Harley shudders wildly, arching his neck as Peter’s hands pull through his hair. He growls, pushing Peter’s shoulders down roughly; the boy hits the floor, and Harley begins to attack his jaw. 

It’s Peter’s turn to shudder and arch his neck as Harley sucks bite after bite into his skin, nibbling and marking every dent and crevice. He stops over Peter’s collarbone and bites tentatively. Peter moans. “H-Harley i-if you stop I s-swear-“

“M not stopping sweetheart,” Harley mumbles, licking and biting the spot. Peter moans even louder then before as he shifts under Harley, and the southern boy can feel Peter through his jeans. Harley scrambles up, pulling Peter with him as they stumble from the gym and into the elevator. He’s kissing Peter, tasting him and controlling him with every flick of his tongue and brush of his finger and god-

The elevator dings and they practically fall out to a private floor. 

Neither of them notice the two people sitting at the counter, Natasha with her coffee and Sam with his sandwich. Both say nothing as they watch the two trip to Harley’s room, locked in the tightest kiss known to humankind. 

“Should we-“

“Naw, they’re fine. Stark made the walls soundproof.”

Harley fumbles for the doorknob, still kissing Peter. The other boy moans and the door finally clicks open. Harley pulls Peter in and closes it with a snap. 

The younger boy falls on the bed, legs splayed and his hair a mess. Harley crawls over him. “You sure baby?”

“P-Princess, if you don’t fuck me right now-“

He cuts Peter off with a kiss, tongue giving and taking at the same time, pressing his desire into Peter’s veins. Pulling off his shirt, Harley kisses him desperately as Peter does the same. Pants are shed until the boys are just in boxers. He could finish right here, locked in this game of push and pull as Peter’s hips jolt to his own and the friction is fleeting but charged like lightning-

Harley remembers what Peter asked him to do. He’s going to keep his promise. 

He reaches over across the bed and pulls out a tube of lube. He puts some on his fingers and looks to Peter. Peter mumbles, “H-Harley please-”

“Yes.”

It’s one word, and it means everything. 

Harley watches himself as he pulls off the last thing between them and dips a finger in, seeing how Peter preens as he inserts a second one and begins to work him open.

Peter shudders and curses, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his abs and his hips. He’s panting, his lips chapping. 

“God baby, I love you, I love you so much,” Harley murmurs as he finishes working him open. After putting the condom on himself, he carefully aligns his body with Peter’s. 

“You ready?”

All Peter can do is nod, his hair coated with sweat and his fingers twitching. Harley carefully pushes himself in. 

A long, drawn out fuuuuck makes its way past Peter’s lips, and Harley is shaking. The whimpers and moans he could take before but the heat- because he’s inside Peter. He’s inside Peter Parker. And it’s fucking awesome. 

“H-Harley, if you don’t m-move I-“ He cuts Peter off with a short thrust, and Peter whimpers, falling flat on the sheets with sweat glistening on him like an angel. Harley decides that there’ll be time for sweet and slow later. Right now, he’s gonna follow Peter’s order. 

_“...fuck me right now...”_

So he does it, just that. He pulls out and pushes in with abandon, dragging his nerves higher and higher with each noise that escapes Peter’s mouth. Every whimper and cry as he breathes, the tiny noises combining with the air from his lungs and the sounds between them. They accumulate and all of a sudden the only thing Harley can see is Peter; everything else is blurred. It’s just Peter Parker, the one thing that matters, his sweetheart, his darling-

It’s a vision he never hopes to forget. Peter, splayed out, lips parted and eyes glazed as he whimpers for Harley, as he sighs in release and the emotions flood him, pushing red to his cheeks and warmth to his bones.

Harley takes off the condom, ties it off, and throws it in the trash bin by the dresser. He lays down and curls up next to Peter, stroking his curls. 

Peter gasps quietly. “That- that was-“

“The best sex ever?” Harley remarks. 

“Yeah,” Peter breathes. He turns around to face Harley, his face tired but satisfied. “I love you.”

“Love you more, sweetheart.” Harley brushes out a stray piece of hair from Peter’s face, and the boy smiles softly, his fingers dancing over Harley’s chest.

He’s home.

~epilogue~

Peter and Harley don’t leave the room till a few hours later, alternating between napping and lazy kissing. Eventually they get dressed. Peter tugs on his old clothes, Harley getting new ones. He does lend Peter a new shirt, it’s faded grey with white words: Rose Hill High. 

Peter wears it with pride. 

The two walk down into the kitchen, where they see Tony, Nat, Steve, Bucky and Sam. They’re all doing various things, Steve is cooking, Bucky is sneakily eating the freshly cooked food, and Tony, Natasha and Sam are finding about ten million different ways to drink coffee. 

As soon as Tony sees them he spits his coffee out, spraying it all over Sam. “Gross!” The veteran cries. 

Peter looks down and blushes. There’s an intense array of hickeys down his neck; as least ten are clearly visible. He pivots on one foot and rounds on Harley. 

“Harls!” He cries.

The other boy appears indignant. “What! I like people knowing you’re mine! Besides... it seemed to work on you pretty well today.” He winks and Peter opens his mouth then closes it again. “Fine. Only because of this afternoon.”

“Enjoy your sex, boys?” Natasha comments as she slyly sips from her mug. 

This time Tony chokes on the coffee instead of spitting it. Peter and Harley glare at Natasha in confusion and indignation respectively. 

“We saw you come crashing through here a few hours ago, fused together at the mouth like idiots. We assumed.”

Harley looks at Peter through the side of his eye. The other boy is blushing. Not in his super embarrassed way, more of the ‘omg wait no’ kind of blush. 

“Well, we only had sex for like... half an hour. Then we just slept a lot, because we got tired-“Harley explains, but he’s cut off by a screech. 

Tony pushes his chair out. “Nope. Nope, absolutely not. I am not listening to your sex life. I’m just going to go buy Mars and live there because of the thought of my protege’s shagging on the regular.” He promptly walks to the elevator, doubles back for his coffee, then finally leaves. 

Steve is looking the tiniest bit scandalized, Bucky’s just holding in a laugh. Nat looks as knowledgeable and powerful as ever and Sam appears mildly annoyed while patting flecks of coffee out of his hair. Peter turns back to Harley and gives him a quick peck on the lips. 

Home is where the heart is.

And his heart belongs solely and only to one Harley Keener. 


End file.
